


Champagne and Lobster

by Butterballs



Series: First Times [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterballs/pseuds/Butterballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After mastering their first kiss, Dean decides it's time for his and Aidan's first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champagne and Lobster

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory arse covering: I own none of the people mentioned in this story and this is all make-believe.

The first date with Aidan is something Dean is dreading. They’ve done okay avoiding it for a couple of weeks now, hanging out in his trailer and making out with _The Fast and the Furious_ playing in the background and standing too close and brushing hands in between takes. It’s pleasant. It’s comfortable territory. It’s noncommittal. It’s _casual_.

Dean is thirty-fucking-five and way too old for casual hook-ups. He takes the bull by the balls, as it were, and blurts to Aidan one evening after a long day of filming, ‘D’you want to grab dinner tomorrow night?’

He’s surprised that the awkwardness he’s radiating doesn’t burn the hair off Aidan’s arms. This is so stupid. This should not be so nerve-racking. He’s seen Aidan naked, for Christ’s sake. Almost naked. Okay, just topless. But it still counts.

Aidan just smiles at him like he’s been waiting for it. ‘That sounds lovely. Where shall we go?’

Dean’s nerves calm a infinitesimal amount. It’s absurd how Aidan can do that; make his mind go quiet and his heart race at the same time. ‘I’ll find somewhere nice.’ Somewhere that doesn’t serve chips with everything and has real cloth napkins. ‘I’ll, um, pick you up at six?’

It’s early but if Dean doesn’t eat dinner by seven he gets cranky. Fortunately, Aidan agrees. Not that they’ve really talked about dinner preferences, per se; Aidan just always happens to be there when Dean orders in or heats up something frozen and is, of course, always happy to eat half.

‘Great. I’ll see you then.’

Suddenly tomorrow night feels a million years away, but it gives Dean plenty of time to pick his outfit and arrange his hair and generally wonder if someone’s been spiking his morning coffee with oestrogen.

***

Dean spends too long trying to decide on a restaurant before realising that he’s being a moron – doesn’t matter if you’re male or female, good food is good food, - and decides on The Cove*. It’s classy but he won’t have to remortgage his house to pay for the date, although he does hope that Aidan won’t order top-shelf booze or the lobster. Aidan’s a terrific guy but he’s not Cristal-and-shellfish levels of brilliant just yet.

He organises a taxi as their transport for the night. It’s utilitarian, unromantic, reminiscent of the many nights in his youth spent drinking and dancing and fucking and vomiting (in that order); but he’s not risking drunk driving and he’s sure as hell not asking anyone he knows to chauffeur them. Aidan seems pleased by the taxi when it pulls up outside the studio.

‘That’s great, you can drink too!’

They both sit in the backseat of the cab. Aidan is wearing a navy blue shirt, silk or something, and smells like Acqua Di Gio. Dean recognises the scent because he's wearing the same thing. Aidan turns to him and says with a cheeky grin, 'You smell like me.'

'Maybe _you_ smell like _me_ ,' Dean shoots back. 

'You smell like each other,' the cabbie pipes up, and they both laugh. Dean wants to hold Aidan's hand on the drive there but settles for pressing their knees together instead.

***  
The restaurant is actually an old house whose rooms have been converted into various dining areas, with the kitchen in a separate building off to the side. Dean has requested a table in one of the smaller rooms, not wanting to be on display, and Aidan looks around in wonderment. 'This is really cool.'

They sit and are presented with menus. Aidan's eyes glint with mirth over the top of his. 'So what can I have?'

'Anything you like,' Dean answers without thinking. It's polite but he doesn't really mean it. Nobody is supposed to _actually_ order the most expensive thing on the menu on a first date.

'Anything?'

'...within reason,' Dean adds, unable to help himself. Aidan bursts out laughing.

'I took this girl out once to a posh restaurant in London,' he says, grinning, 'And she ordered the seventy-pound steak and Johnnie Blue. I thought she was joking. Then when the waiter actually wrote it down I had to take her aside and lay down the law.'

'Did the date end on the spot?' Dean asks, also grinning.

'No. She ordered something else, had a nice dinner on my coin, _then_ the date ended. She just got up without saying goodbye, as I recall.' 

They both laugh again and Dean feels some of his nerves dissipate. He orders the pork and Aidan the lamb and they spend the next fifteen minutes trading stories about disastrous dates. 

After their second round of drinks arrives Dean needs to know something. 'So is this your first date with a dude?' he asks, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth.

Aidan stares at him steadily and for a few tense moments Dean thinks he's blown it. Then he replies. 'Yes.'

'I'm sorry,' Dean apologises. 'I'm being a dick. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to be doing, you know. I've never been out with a bloke either.'

Aidan rolls his eyes and begins to butter a tiny, gourmet bread roll. 'Think about it this way: you're not on a date with a guy. You're on a date with me.'

Dean smiles tentatively and puts his hand over Aidan's on top of the table. 'You're right.'

'And I'm a pretty fuckin' fabulous date, if I do say so myself,' Aidan adds around a mouthful of bread.

'But you still won't shell out for the posh steak?'

'Hell no, Dean, you're not even getting seventy-quid steak at our _wedding_ ,' Aidan says with one of those contagious smirks of his, and Dean throws his head back with a laugh, the rest of his nerves vanishing. Under the table, Aidan's ankle hooks around his.

***

Aidan is a pretty fuckin' fabulous date, actually. They don't stop talking for two hours. By the end of dessert ('You may not let me order the lobster, O'Gorman, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I walk out of a restaurant without tasting the sticky date pudding,') Dean has found out that Aidan does not believe in the supernatural, is a cat person, dislikes the colour orange and is afraid of heights. Similarly, Aidan now knows of Dean's penchant for shouting at the television when the news is on and his fondness of for Dad jokes.

'Did you hear about the man addicted to brake fluid?' Dean asks him without checking if Aidan even wants to hear one. 'Don't worry; he can stop at any time!' Aidan groans and kicks his shin.

As they leave the restaurant to get back in the cab (where they _do_ hold hands on the way back to Dean's trailer) Dean notes how rarely they've really _talked_ since hooking up. If ever there was a perfect date, this is probably it. Aidan does not disprove Dean's theory by insisting to pay the cab fare.

Dean doesn't get time to pretend to be finding the right key to open his door before Aidan kisses him goodnight. He drops the keys on the step and wraps his arms around Aidan's neck to deepen the kiss, feeling that happy little thrill at kissing someone so much taller than him.

When the kiss ends, Dean asks him breathlessly, 'Want to come in? Die Hard's on TV. And I still need to beat you at Draw Something.'

'That's never gonna happen, Dean, despite the fact that _you're_ the artist,' Aidan teases him. 'But I can't say no to Bruce.'

Of course, the game and the movie are forgotten pretty quickly as Aidan drops onto the couch and hauls Dean on top of him. That's how they fall asleep, tangled around other with the television playing infomercials quietly in the background. When Dean wakes the following morning he curls around Aidan's chest and sighs contentedly. It's not exactly how he pictured a first sleepover to go - in his mind there were fewer clothes involved - but the most important fact is that Aidan is still here with him, and that's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> *The Cove is the name of what I feel is the best Indian restaurant in my hometown. Chicken korma…*drools*  
> Also I completely made all the little facts about them up (except Aidan not believing in the supernatural) as Google failed me completely with trivia for these two.


End file.
